Cousin Emelene was reading the Sentinel. George's quick eye glanced at the headlines:
Candidate Remington Heckled by Suffragists. Ask Him Leading Questions.
"Why, dear me," she remarked, her kind eyes on George, "it's perfectly awful, isn't it, that they break the laws that way just for a little more money. But I don't see why they want to annoy dear George. They ought to be glad they are going to get a district attorney who'll put all those things straight. I think it's very silly of them to ask him, don't you, Genevieve?"
"Let me see," said Genevieve, taking the paper.
"All he's got to do, anyway, is to answer," pursued Cousin Emelene.
"Yes, that's all," replied Genevieve, her melancholy gaze on George. Yesterday she would have had Emelene's childlike faith. But this stranger, who, for a trivial and tyrannical reason, had sent away Betty—how would he act?
"They showed these right opposite your windows?" she questioned.
"Yes," he returned. "Our friend Mrs. Herrington did it herself. It was the first course of our dinner. If you think that's good taste—"
"I would expect it of her," said Alys Brewster-Smith.
"But it makes it so easy for George," Emelene repeated. "They'll know now what sort of a man he is. Little children at work, just to make a little more money—it's awful!"